Poetry

Suspension of disbelief

To survive the hostility, the insanity in public education, I stare straight into the fire, this pyre of books.

What do we owe to language in times of unimaginable violence? Poets linked to both Palestine and Texas help show us the way.

"rub your eyes & see nothin’..."

"You've built your beach homes..."

We sit by the window of the nursing home where her face can feel the sun.

"Palestinians are all haunted. We’re haunted by what used to be, what could have been."

A silhouette, stationed at his Dallas valet stand awaiting the healthy, the wealthy, the privileged, the favored.

I stop to relish the sudden chill, feel retreating thunder rumbling my bones, hear breezes sliding over damp sand, greedy for its moisture.